Hauntings (12 page)

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Authors: Lewis Stanek

BOOK: Hauntings
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              “Coffee?” Oswald was about to reach for the menu when the pudgy woman stepped out from the kitchen and offered him some coffee.

              “Yes, please.”

              “Just driving through?  Of course you are no one comes here to stay, that is unless they came from here in the first place.” she laughed as if something she said was funny. If it was Oswald didn't catch the humor of it.

              “Actually I'll be staying a little out of town for awhile. A friend has offered me the use of his cabin in the woods.”

              “Those woods wouldn't be Castle Rock would they?” She placed a sturdy cup and saucer in front of Oswald and poured the fresh hot coffee. It smelled delicious.

              “I'm not sure, Aleister said something about the woods, but I don't recall.”

              “Well Castle Rock are the only woods around here with any cabins that I know of.”

              Oswald sweetened his coffee with a shake from the sugar dispenser, stirred for a moment then took a sip of his coffee.

              “Starbucks has got nothing on Sam & Ella's that's for sure.”

              “Star what?”

              “Starbucks, they make coffee,” he said.

              “Hell, everyone makes coffee. Would you like something to eat?”

              “What would you recommend?”

              “We make the best steamed burger in town.”  Oswald smiled at this assuming Sam & Ella's was the only restaurant in town, but he didn't laugh.

              “ By all means a steamed burger with all the fixings then.”

              “It will be awhile, we make everything fresh around here, nothing sitting in any stasis cabinet waiting for customers like they do in the big city.”

              “I'm sure this will be worth waiting for,” Oswald replied and sipped at his coffee. It felt as if he had stepped back in time by a good sixty years or better. It was comforting, reassuring somehow after his long trip to be relaxing in a roadside dinner from the past.

              “If you don't mind, I think I'll move to one of the booths. I'd like a little back support.” He yelled into the kitchen.

              “Suit yourself. It's all the same to me,” came back the reply.

              Oswald picked up his coffee and stepped across the room to the nearest booth and sat down. The back support was nice but in all truth he wanted to see what was playing on the juke box. Chubby Checker, Elvis, Little Richard, and Chuck Berry, all the classics and even Frank Sinatra if just for variety's sake. He dug in his pocket for a quarter. Slipped it in the little machine and was surprised to see he would get five songs for his money.
Just like the old days,
he thought.

              Oswald selected five of his old favorites and sat back hoping the machine still worked after what had to be years. With a bit of a hiss and a crackle the Jukebox at the far end of the diner came to life with Elvis singing “Don't be Cruel”. Oswald smiled, closed his eyes, and listened. If the rest of Dixon was like this, he may never leave.

              “Oswald, you made it!” A friendly voice came from the front of the diner. He looked up, and there at the door stood Clara.

              “I see you made it too. Care to join me, I'm about to have one of Sam & Ella's famous steamed burgers.”

              “I wouldn't miss it, best burgers in town. It says so on the menu” Clara scooted in the seat across from Oswald. “Have you found your cabin yet?”

              “No, I've just gotten into town. Thought I'd have something to eat, pick up some supplies, and then see if I can find it. The matron of this fine establishment thinks it may be in someplace called Castle Rock.”

              “No doubt it is. Only farm land around here for miles around. Pretty much every acre that could be cleared has been cleared for farming.” The state set aside some land for a park and a few of the original families that settled here had already built on the land. They were what do you call it? Grandfathered in, I think. Anyway, The state let them keep their land, but wouldn't let them farm it or otherwise disturb the natural environment.”

              “Are you telling me the Dyer's were one of the founding families here?”

              “There are old stories about them around here. You being friends and all you may not want to hear them.” Just then the matron delivered Oswald's steamed burger with crispy French fries, Lettuce, tomato, and a pickle on the side.

              “Oh Clara, you're back in town? Think you'll be staying for awhile this time?”

              “Maybe, it all depends.”

              “Doesn't it always.”

              “Ahem” Oswald broke in. Can I have some ketchup and a coke to go with my meal?”

              “Oh, of course you can. I'll be right back. It's good to see you again, Clara.” The overly plump waitress turned and walked away from their table to the kitchen, presumably to get Oswald's Coke.

              “You too, Freida.”

              “I take it you know each other.”

              “Everyone knows everyone out here.”

              “Sounds nice.”

              “Not really. It's why I left, but then again it's why I came back too. It's complicated.”

              Freida came back with a glass of coke and a bottle of ketchup for Oswald.

              “Can I get you anything, Clara?”

              “ I'm famished. I'll have a steamed burger with swiss and mushrooms, double fries and a coke to wash it down.” Freida walked back toward the kitchen and yelled through the window. Then rested her elbows on the counter watching Oswald and Clara.

              “One Clara's regular”

              “Is Clara back?” a man's voice came from the kitchen.

              “You know she is,” Freida replied. An older heavy set man wearing an apron over his wife beater shirt and jeans came barreling out of the kitchen.

              “Where's my Clara?” he called out his arms open wide expecting a hug.

              “Daddy,” was all Clara said grinning, her voice bright and cheerful, as she got up and hurried to her father and succumbed to his bear hug.              

              “Everything is on the house for my baby and her friend.” The big man said as he let go of his daughter Clara. He gazed at his daughter. Oswald could see the twinkle of a tear form in her father's eye.

              He thought he should look away from this private moment. So he dug in his pockets again and retrieved another quarter. Slipping it into the mini jukebox, he selected something by the Del Vikings, “Whispering Bells” followed by “Little Darling” by the Diamonds.
They're all good,
he thought and selected random number combinations for his remaining three choices. Oswald glanced back to Clara and her father, then back to his food and he took a bite of his first steamed burger. It was juicy and delicious dripping with fried onions.

              “The best burger's in town. That's a fact,” he said to himself.

              “What was that? Can I get you something else?” Freida asked.

              “No, everything is fine. I was just talking to myself.”

              “We all do that sometimes, not so much in public, though.”

              “No, I guess not. What have you got for desert?”

              “We have whatever you want. As long as whatever you want is apple pie, or of course apple pie ala mode.”

              “I think I'll take a slice of your apple pie then. Is there  a chance I could have it heated up with a slice of cheddar cheese?”

              “We have a radical here, Ed, he wants some cheese with his pie.” Freida called to the cook. “I'll see what I can do for you, no promises though.”  Oswald glanced again at Clara and her father and hoped Thomas Wolfe was wrong, and at least Clara could go home again. Freida came back with his pie, steaming hot, and with a slice of perfectly melted  cheddar cheese on top.

              “Oh Freida, you're an angel,” Oswald exclaimed as he saw the pie.

              “I try.” Freida paused, “Tell me how do you know our Clara?”

              “I don't really. I saw her walking along the highway with a gas can in her hand and I offered her a ride. We talked a little and it turned out we were going in the same direction. That's about all there is to it.”             

              “Oh, I thought it might be something more.”

              “I admit, I was glad to see her walk into your restaurant. Any familiar face is welcome when one is surrounded by strangers, don't you think?”

              “I suppose. Personally I've never been far from home. Dixon born and raised.”

              “Clara told me everyone knows everyone around here.”

              “That's the truth in a nutshell”

              “When I was growing up my family moved a lot, every year. Sometimes more frequently than that. We followed my father's career such as it was. I never put down roots. Never felt comfortable in any one place. It's hard for me to develop trust in someone.” Oswald wondered how he could be sharing so much with someone he just met.

              “That sounds like a hard way to live. Enjoy your pie.” Freida went to join the other two in conversation. Oswald was certain they would have a lot of catching up to do. The pie was delicious, the best he could remember having. The pie's crust was flaky and light, the apple filling mixed with raisins was gooey sweet and the melted sharp cheddar made the perfect counter point to the pies sweetness. He savored the last bite of pie, swallowed the last sip of coffee. Then pulled a five from his wallet for a tip.

              “What do I owe you?” he asked to the general direction of the three at the counter.

              Ed answered.“You owe me nothing. You helped my daughter when she needed help. Who knows what could have happened to her if someone else picked her up. The world's not as innocent as it once was.”

              “Thank you for a wonderful meal. If I could ask one last favor though...”

              “Anything.”

              “Could tell me how to get to the Dyer's cabin?”

              “Not many people go out that way. I mean to the Dyer place that is.”

              “Aleister, my friend, told me he hadn't been there himself in years. I imagine it will take some cleaning up before I can settle in.”

              “I would think at least a couple of bug bombs to clear the place out. You could probably pick those up at Oliver's. That is if you are set on going there.”

              “I've come this far, it'd be a shame to go back now without even seeing the place don't you think? So how do I get there?”

              “That's not a good place to be. There are stories that go with that place, old stories. That place has history around here,” he said.

              Oswald wanted to laugh, being warned away by the natives is too cliché. This has to be a joke, but he saw from the look on Ed's face that he wasn't joking”

              “So what would you recommend, Ed. I've traveled over eleven hundred miles so far to spend some time at a cabin a friend  has been kind enough to let me use. Should I just turn around and head back without even seeing the place? What do I tell my friend then, thanks, but no thanks?”

              “That sounds like good advice to me,” Ed replied.

              “Don't be silly dad.” Clara offered. “You're making us look like a bunch of superstitious hicks.”

              “It ain't superstition if it's true, and Clara, look where we are, we are a bunch of hicks, there's no denying it.”

              “I'll take you there. I know where it is you can follow me, besides this gives me a chance to pay you back for the gas and the ride.” Clara gave her father a look that spoke volumes. He better not argue about this if he wants her to stay in town for awhile.

              “I'm grateful for the offer, but I can't ask you to do that. If you want, you can draw a little map for me or write down the directions so I won't forget,” Oswald said trying to avoid a family argument.

              “Let's face it. One corn field looks pretty much the same as any other, and if you do make it into Castle Rock Woods, there are barely roads there if you can call them that at all. Clara's right, if you're dead set on going there one of us should take you.” Ed's words could have been comforting, a sign of compromise with his daughter, but his expression left no doubt that he'd rather see Oswald on his way out of town.

              “I said I'll take him” Clara repeated “and I will. I'll make you a map before I leave too. So you can find you're way out.”

              “You better get going so you get back before dark. “ Ed said looking as grim as ever.

              “I'll just stop over at Olivers and pick up a few things maybe some bug bombs.” Oswald walked out the door into the cool autumn air. He took a deep breath and walked across the street to the little grocery store.

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